The Game

All characters are 18+

Part 1 of 2 (sorry, trying not to have them too long!) 

Everyone knew about The Game. The funny thing was, very few people actually cared. It baffled me, if I'm honest. Knowing that you're nothing more than a joke to them, but going along with it anyway in order to get an hour with one of the hottest guys in college. It was simply pathetic in my opinion.

I mean, really? Chicks were prepared to give themselves up on a plate just so Ryan fucking Allen, Tanner Prescott or one of the other pretentious pricks on campus could have their wicked way, and tick their name off a fucking list? It wasn't just pathetic, it was downright absurd.

And yes I was jealous, but so what? They were unbelievably hot, but in that I know I'm hot kinda way. It should have detracted from their hotness, but much to my annoyance, it only made them hotter. And why wouldn't they be hot? They spent most of their days working out or playing sport. They were all here on scholarships, so part of their daily lives was to be hot. God, I hated them.

The Game sounded like an urban legend at the start. I couldn't fathom how any young woman in this day and age would lower themselves to being nothing more than a play thing for them. It truly made me cringe, but it wasn't a joke.

On the last weekend of every month, the gang of meatheads got together and drew straws. If it wasn't bad enough that one of them literally had to lose to move to the next part, then came the selection. A hat was filled with the Snapchat names of hundreds of girls from campus, and the loser had to draw one, they then had just the weekend to seduce and fuck whichever unlucky woman they'd picked.

It sounded like some sort of medieval hunting game, but as of yet, I hadn't heard of one young woman who hadn't enjoyed it.

"It's a chance for them" Ty shrugged when I told him about the ridiculous game, "think about it, those girls who went through high school being all self conscious and shit, now they have a chance to get the most popular, most handsome guys on campus".

My best friend seemed totally oblivious to the fact that The Game was literally making a laughing stock of the poor females who were picked for the proverbial slaughter. I, myself, was not convinced.

I had no idea what the outcome was if they didn't succeed in their cruel venture, but it was obviously something awful, because by all accounts, the chosen person was bombarded until they gave in. Even the thought of it made me squirm.

Regardless, as an eighteen year old guy, I had very little to worry about. The last weekend of the year was quickly dawning, and the sweet taste of summer was on the horizon. The Game wasn't even a thought in my head, until it was.

I wasn't much of a party animal, and with the end of year exams coming up the following week, I decided to use my Friday night to cram in some last minute studying. It wasn't the most exciting night I'd ever had, but I was serious about my education.

It was coming close to midnight when I decided to pack it in. I'd done some good work this year, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let myself down by falling at the last hurdle. I stuffed my books back into my bag, crawled onto my bed and checked my phone.

Snap from TanScot.

I cocked a brow. The name didn't ring a bell, and the person wasn't in my contacts, but the longer I looked at the message, the more it began to make sense. I checked the calendar and my eyes widened.

"No fucking way" I whispered, almost certain that I was wrong.

I had to be wrong. There was no way that what I was thinking could be correct. Yet I became instantly nervous, in the most excited possible way.

"Stop" I told myself, "you're being ridiculous".

I opened the app and even his avatar sent a shiver down my spine. I pressed the red box and held my breath as the screen changed.

Tanner Prescott was arguably the best looking man I'd ever known. I say known, but the only time he'd ever looked in my direction was when I accidentally walked into him and he said "watch where you're going, dipshit".

He was tall, rugged, broad and incredibly fit. He had that air of confidence that only fuckboys who play football and beerpong have. It was easy to tell that he'd had a very easy life, and that the only things that truly mattered to him were his popularity and the score of the latest game.

Tanner was shirtless. The camera was flipped toward his handsome face, so all I could see was his white grin, his delicious dimples, and his stunning brown eyes. That, and his naked chest which made my hand shake.

The image was accompanied by a simple caption, and it was one that immediately blew my mind.

It's your lucky weekend.

I read it again before the timer ran out and the image disappeared forever. It was a mistake. It had to be a mistake. I was sure that the photo was meant for someone else. Someone female. I sat back on the bed, and suddenly all my ideas about how awful The Game was, melted in my head.

I suppose I'd been jealous. Who wouldn't be jealous? I mean, having the hottest guy in school pursuing you for an entire weekend was the stuff of dreams, and whoever the lucky woman was this month, she was in for a surprise. Tanner was absurdly handsome, and I became almost furious that I hadn't been born a female.

I set the phone down because I couldn't bring myself to contemplate how truly amazing it would have been, anymore. I knew that somewhere on the campus, the entire group were convulsing with laughter at their error, and if I had taken the bait, I would have become the laughing stock of the college.

I turned over in the bed, then turned back. The idea had gotten me incredibly aroused, and with my roommate out partying for the night, I had the room to myself.

I slid my pants down my thighs and looked down at my cock. The mere thought of Tanner had given me wood. I held the base and wiggled it for a moment. It was a modest size, somewhere between five and six inches, but I hadn't measured in a long time. Apparently modest isn't impressive enough to most people.

Regardless, I had nobody to impress as I began pumping my hard cock and fantasising over Tanner Prescott. Perhaps in a different life, I could have been his prey for the weekend. That would have been nice. That would have been...

The phone buzzed again and I froze.

A flurry of ideas rushed through my head as I scrambled to pick it up. It was likely going to be a snap to explain the mistake, so I calmed my racing mind and opened it.

He'd changed the angle. Tanner's entire torso filled the screen. His hard pecs, his chiselled abs, the lines which led to the prize, all of it. And across the middle of the screen; Do I have to chase you?

A line of drool fell from my lip as I stared at it, and just like the last one, it disappeared a moment later. I gawped at the blank screen. Did he still not realise that he'd messaged the wrong person or was I... No... I couldn't have been.

Hey, Tanner. This is Rhys Parker. I think you might have the wrong person.

I sent it as a message. I was certainly in no state to send a photo, but within seconds, an image came back.

The same one as before, only now I could see the waistband of his white underwear. My eyes widened further, and bulged as I read; I know who it is. We doing this tonight or tomorrow?

My heart became frantic in my chest. It wasn't a mistake. I took a moment to compose myself, but it was impossible. My cock twitched excitedly, but how could I present myself to someone so fine, when I was a skinny little dweeb with a small dick and arms the size of chopsticks? I felt the knot tighten in my stomach.

It felt like some sort of messed up fairytale, but deep in the back of my mind, I was sure that it was a set up. A joke of some sort, to ring in the end of the year and send me home feeling utterly humiliated. Yet, despite my reservations, the glimmer of hope that this was real, made me send another message.

Are you guys playing with me? You're not gay.

He messaged back this time. Evidently, his patience was wearing thin.

I don't have time to mess around. I need your mouth and your ass, and I need it before Sunday. So... Now or tomorrow?

Pre-cum gushed from me like a tap. As a virgin, the idea of being someone's toy was terrifying and mind blowing in equal measure. As a person, the idea was almost crude, but how on earth could I pass up an opportunity like this? Did I even have the option?

I dragged my pants up and paced the dark room as my heart thundered in my chest. My hands became sweaty, my underwear became damp, and after almost ten minutes of deliberation I replied to him.

Okay. I'll let you do it on a few conditions. Number one, we do it tomorrow night in my dorm at nine. My roommate will be gone home by then. Number two, you have to use a condom for everything, even blowjobs, I've read some crazy things. Number three, we go slow and use lots of lube. I've never done this before so we really need to take it easy. Number four, I'd prefer if it was gentle. And number five, either of us can call it off at any time.

I sent the message and read it again. I sounded like a complete prude, but I had to take the necessary precautions. This wasn't how I had planned on losing my virginity, so if I was going to do this, I was going to do it my way. A message popped up seconds later, and I gulped as I read it.

You don't make the rules. I do. See you tomorrow.